Perhaps the best way to tell this odd story of betrayal and bitter defeat would be to start at the end. It started like this:

The day was dark, covered with abnormally large clouds, and thunder could be heard in the distance. The single neon light in the tall building flickered and went out. The lone man looked up and smiled, his story complete, his life drawn out. The man laughed a hideous, rotting, obnoxious laugh. The neon light flickered once more, more brilliantly than before, but the man could not be seen. His laugh seemed to whisper away in the wind, but no one was outside to hear it. No one was outside to hear the final laugh of a dead man.

Truthfully, its not actually the end, just the end of an untold story, one of the million floating in the wind, one of the story's of the unfortunate few to be forgotten, because only the wind was there to hear it. However, this case was different because it is an ending that became a beginning of a new story, of this story:

Bill Tunaman stuck his arm out the window and felt the wind tickle his fingers and the cool sting of a light-drizzle about to begin. He sighed and pulled his arm back in before a bird mistook his arm for a branch. He shut the window and slid back in his chair. He tipped his cap's bill over his eyes in a useless gesture to avoid the light of the single candle. A loud snoring could be heard coming from the unfinished wall to Bill's back, and Bill ignored it, sighing once more, hoping that someone would get him a sleeping pill.

The morning broke little joy to Bill. The lone phone ...

Professor von Carpworth, the big cheese, Bill Tunaman, his assistant, and Malicia Craven, the secretary, each had their mouth gaped open at the sight before them. It wasn't actually very exciting to a normal person, but the trio was happy. The building they were staring at was 1 Ultramauve Drive, the location was somewhere deep in the deep of Southern California, and the building was 'Von Carpworth and Associates'. The building had been in progress for months. A Vampire depression had almost completely stopped the construction, but the Professor (with a little help from Bill) was able to save the day (metaphorically speaking, after all, how can you save the day... that would be like trying to hurt the night).

The Professor sighed, "It's good to be out of that stifling University. It was keeping me from my full potential."

Bill muttered under his breath, "I don't think you have full potential."

"What Bill?"

Bill looked up at the Professor, "Nothing... my allergies are acting up."

The Professor stepped to the door and pulled on the door. It was stuck. The Professor knocked on the door.

A large, brutish man shoved the door from the inside, and if the Professor had not instinctively sidestepped, the Professor would have been crushed. The giant of a man glanced at the Professor, "Sorry about the door Professor... I was jus' checking up on things inside... would you like me to pick the door up and put it back on the door frame?"

The Professor smiled, "Nah, that's fine Otis... I'll... get Bill to clean it up later."

Bill hung his head. He hated it when the Professor "volunteered" him for things.

The three stepped over the broken door and entered into the Lobby... or, what was supposed to ...